Broken Britain
by Mirazen
Summary: Alfred gets a first hand look at British youth culture. US/UK if you squint and turn your head. Rated for language.


_Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, M&S, Golden Axe, Sonic or anything else I may have mentioned or vaguely referenced. Nothing is mine!_

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_For nearly as long as he had known the guy, America had thought England was pretty damn boring. Apparently, there were times when England was pretty awesome with his pirate days and the punk wave and everything but America hadn't seen that side of Arthur before, so the image of the stuffy old guy with bad dress sense stuck in his mind. Alfred wasn't sure he even believed those stories: how can you have a guy that used to pillage and plunder from ships in wars on the sea, then go to listening to music promoting anarchy, just for him to turn into some dull old guy that launches off into a lecture every time you interrupt his embroidery?!

Francis assured him that past all of Arthur's attempts at being a gentleman, he was still all rough and punky underneath. It showed through sometimes, if you got Arthur drunk then he usually starts talking weird and insulting everyone. Even when he's sober, he swears like a trooper. Not very gentleman-like. It became kind of a self-applied challenge for Alfred to find the more inelegant side of Arthur but it wasn't that much of a target, he had more heroic things to be doing.

Alfred was faced with some mixed feelings when his boss had told him to go to England's place to sort out some more of those "I-thought-we-were-done-with-the-credit-crunch-now-but-I-guess-we're-not" issues. Usually, as boring as Iggy was, he was pretty fun to hang out with even if it was just for annoying him. What was more interesting was that England's boss had briefly mentioned that Arthur had been acting weird lately and it took a lot of effort getting a hold of him.

Initiate hero challenge: "Find Iggy".

The journey to England's place was about as boring as it ever was but it seemed just that much longer because Alfred was so eager to start his mission, a quick dash across the pond turned into the huge venture across the ocean that humans always complained about.

Alfred had never really wandered around London before, usually it was from point A to point B with a few stops at a burger joint along the way but now he was weaving through pushy, angry-looking commuters that were storming down the busy streets with little consideration of anybody else. It was kind of depressing: the sky was a gloomy dark grey and dropped drizzly rain onto the equally downcast citizens of London as they walked down the grey sidewalks between grey buildings and grey cars that shot down the road and splashed freezing water everywhere.

Alfred took another hard slam to the shoulder, that one was too forceful not to have been deliberate and made him reel slightly but make sure not to knock into or get in the way of anyone else, he would never admit it but these people were kind of intimidating. Alfred sighed theatrically in annoyance and rolled his eyes; this was useless. He hadn't seen any sign of Iggy and by the way he was going, it wasn't going to get any better.

Desperate to break away from the crowds, Alfred cut across the road where there was a busy cross and dashed across another where there was no crossing at all. Alfred sighed in relief as he could finally pause without being trampled or pushed in front of a car and looked around his surroundings, he hadn't realised before but he had caught the downward staring thing that everybody else did around here.

He was on a deserted sidewalk that was a lot different from the mob he was just caught in, it was right by the entrance of a park with high black metal fences that surrounded it and large forbidding looking gates that had chains tangled around the locks and sharp spikes on top of each bar. On one side of the park was a huge dreary high-rise parking lot and on the other, a large building with a glowing green sign reading "M&S" on the side. Alfred wasn't sure what that was supposed to be and couldn't see in from this angle but it was probably a store seeing all the people going in and out.

A freezing wind rushed at Alfred and blew icy rain into his face, he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his bomber jacket and shook his head to flick water off his face.

'_What is with this weather? It's nearly April!'_ Alfred thought as he watched rain droplets run down the lenses of his glasses. He looked round though the fence and into the park again, the desolate place was pretty depressing but it sure beat going back into the mass of people and he hadn't got anything from that method anyway.

Alfred trudged through the looming gates and started a sluggish trek down the wet cobbled path, blue eyes searching across the expanse of dark grass dotted with individual bare trees that seemed like a strange out-of-place piece of nature in the inner-city part of London. There didn't seem to be any signs of life, even the plants looked pretty dead but then the harsh wind died down a little and some sound in the distance was carried across the open space to Alfred's ears without being swept away by blustery weather. It sounded like some pretty aggressive shouting but it was completely jumbled and Alfred couldn't understand a word of it, whatever it was became a burst of laughter from several people.

As Alfred got further down the path he sped up his pace a little, the rain was a getting heavier and his bomber jacket didn't serve as much protection. As Alfred progressed down the path, the people that were making so much noise came into view: there were about five teenagers gathered on and around a bench and as he got closer, Alfred saw the ground around them was littered with trash and several large blue plastic bottles were set on the floor near them. They were still shouting and strangely, Alfred couldn't understand what they were saying even now when he was only a few meters away, only picking up a few words that made no sense to him anyway. Even though the oldest one that he could see must only have been 18 at most, Alfred thought they were kind of threatening as a group with the way they were yelling at each other and whenever one of them looked away for him to see their faces; they shot harsh sneers at anything they looked at.

Most of them had hoods up that hid their faces but from what Alfred could see, there was one girl with huge hoop earrings, excessive make-up and a ponytail that was so tight that it seemed to pull her entire face back. Alfred winced, _'Her eyes are nearly on the sides of her head,' _he thought as another one of the group seemed to notice him. An unnaturally tall guy with a white hoodie and angry, acne- ridden face shot a furious stare at the American who returned the look with mild shock and stopped in his tracks a few feet from the bench, which probably wasn't the best idea. The teen's glare hardened as Alfred made eye contact and turned to face him.

"Wot you lookin' at?" the stranger said eloquently, making it sound more like an accusation than a question. Then a couple of his friends turned to stare as well and suddenly Alfred was very aware of 3 pairs of judging eyes on him, he felt more than a little nervous.

"Huh?" Alfred countered in confusion, hardly knowing what was going on. This stranger seemed pissed at him but he didn't know what he was supposed to have done. This guy was talking really weird too. Weren't English people supposed to be really well spoken?

"Fuckin' hell…" the teen growled to himself and stubbed out a cigarette on the bench next to one of his friends hands before taking two more steps towards Alfred. "Wot. You. Lookin'. At. Not hard mate." He said patronizingly, staring Alfred down with hard eyes and making it sound like the simplest thing in the world while he was still talking so strangely.

"Nothing important, don't worry." Alfred said, raising an eyebrow and looking over the frames of his glasses. He didn't know what the problem was but if this guy wanted a fight, he would get one and Alfred could argue with the best of them.

The stranger scowled even harder and took another step towards Alfred, "Mate, are you LOOKING for trouble?!" he accused and held out both his arms, "Come on then!" he challenged, taking another step. Even if he was daring Alfred to make the first move, he looked like he was about to beat the American into the ground. Before the teenager could try, he was cut off by an "Oh piss," from behind him and one of the others scrambling off of the bench with some drunken difficulty and standing up, rambling "Hold on, hold on, hold on," over and over again until he was stable.

Wait a minute.

"Iggy?!" Alfred nearly screeched, eyes wide and nearly popping out of his head as he stared at Arthur who was stood next to his aggressor and hardly looked like himself. The older nation was wearing a grey jacket with hood up that nearly obscured his eyes, torn faded blue jeans and dirty white sneakers which was a huge leap from the usual tie and sweater-vest combination Alfred usually saw him sporting. Not only did he look like some under fifty for a change, he was hanging around with some guy that starts fights for no reason! And he was at least slightly drunk from the way he seemed so focussed on just standing upright and how he was waving around a white can of something certainly alcoholic whenever he spoke.

"Iggy?" The tall teenager echoed questioningly and smirked down at Arthur who shot him a dirty look back and the others back around the bench burst out into mocking laughter.

"No Pendell, shut up. Now leave off him a'right? He's a mate o' mine, thick as shit but he's fine." Arthur explained to the tall guy who was apparently called Pendell (was that even a name?) and he was talking in the same way the strangers did, even if he was a little more understandable than they were, which added to Alfred's confusion. And annoyance, he didn't appreciate being called 'thick as shit'.

"Iggy, what are you- Who are- What is this? I don't even- Ah, never mind." Alfred grasped to find appropriate questions but his mind couldn't decide on which was a more pressing concern right now so he just grabbed the wrist that Arthur was holding the can in and started dragging him away from the group. Alfred was more of one for actions over words anyway.

Arthur pulled against Alfred's grip but of course it was futile against the other's unnatural strength, "Oi, hold on! I was having fun! We was gonna go round Justin's and play Golden Axe and Sonic and stuff!" the older nation protested childishly, yanking his arm back desperately in a bid for escape but quickly transferred his can of cider into the other hand where it was safer. That was the second most important thing on his mind. "You can come too! D'you like Golden Axe?" Arthur added, grinning hopefully at Alfred when he looked scornfully at his former mentor and tried to ignore the bizarre role reversal.

"I've never played it and I'm taking you home." Alfred said simply and looked ahead with a hard stare as he towed his drunken friend back towards the park gates; he wasn't going to let Arthur hang around with those weird angry people no matter how much he argued.

"Never played it?!" Arthur echoed in shock with his eyes wide before breaking out into a grin, "I'll teach ya! Can't hack it? I'll beat ya!" he said cheerfully and looked back to where his group of 'friends' remained on their bench and watched the pair leave with the baseless hatred Alfred received before.

"Yeah, jog on you fuckin' GAY!" Pendell yelled after them along with more incoherent abuse from the others that just sounded like disorganised riot shouting.

"Oh, fuck off you prick! I thought you was a twat anyway! And you buy cheap piss beer as well, you tight-arse!" Arthur barked back at them, unphased by their aggression. The sudden outburst of unusual vulgarity made Alfred jump and stop while Arthur knocked back the rest of the content of the can he was holding on lobbed it towards the gang. It missed but it was pretty close considering he was drunk. Alfred yanked Arthur towards the park gates, nearly pulling him over completely in the process but managed to get him out onto the sidewalk beside the road before he spun the Englishman around face him and grabbed his shoulders.

"Iggy, what the hell were you doing hanging around with those freaks? That tall one was insane I swear!" Alfred said in an almost scolding tone and pointed off back in the vague direction of the risky group back in the park for added emphasis.

"I don't even know, mate." Arthur said simply, pulling down his hood and staring back at Alfred with dull green eyes in a way that almost seemed like there was no thought behind them at all. "Just wanted to see how chavs worked I suppose. And those was the chaviest chavs I ever met, it was like walking into the dole office on a Friday," he added, looking around the area absently and found he couldn't remember where he was exactly for some reason. Drunk probably, he decided, which wasn't surprising since he had been drinking White Lightning and some other stronger stuff for the best part of the day.

Alfred blinked dumbly. Mate? Chav? Dole? What? He had no idea what Arthur was talking about so he just ignored it; it wasn't unusual for Iggy to start talking crap when he was drunk so Alfred had kind of gotten used to it.

"Whatever. I'm taking you home anyway." Alfred said, shaking his head and taking Arthur's hand again, leading him down the sidewalk like a child. Strangely enough, the crowds from before had dispersed and the roads were pretty easy to navigate now and Alfred was fairly sure he could find the way back.

The drizzly rain had gotten harder now and it was hard enough for Alfred to see with so much water on his glasses but he was also getting the occasional raindrop in the eye to add to it, he was not used to this. Arthur however, was in his element and was looking up at the sky, studying the ominous clouds and hardly flinching when icy water struck him in the eye. They progressed though London in silence for a few minutes until Alfred had lost his bearings and stopped to clock all the landmarks he could see to get an idea of where he was.

"I miss how it used to be." Arthur suddenly said out of nowhere.

"Wha?" Alfred asked and looked round at his old mentor again with a sceptical expression. Arthur was staring absently into the distance as if nothing had happened and Alfred briefly wondered whether he imagined it. The younger nation followed the other's gaze past the building at the huge ferris wheel in the center of the city, the London Eye was still turning even though it was raining cats and dogs by this point.

"You know, before the whole 'Broken Britain' thing." Arthur added bluntly and his stare dropped from the Eye to look at Alfred and the confused expression he had. Arthur sighed, typical of America to be completely oblivious of what was going on in other countries.

"Mine is the highest crime rate in Europe, corrupt governments, shitty economy, that 13 year old lad that became a dad, everyone's on benefits, underage drinking keeps getting worse, Asbo culture, teenagers get blamed for everything, Britain's becoming known for it's broken society rather than anything good we've done." Arthur stated flatly and avoided any eye contact with Alfred as his dull green eyes flicked up to look at the grey sky again, "I just miss those calm days before we began to realise that things aren't right," he added despondently and didn't even blink as raindrops struck him in the eyes over and over again and ran down his face.

Alfred stood in silence for a minute and the whole city would have seemed to entirely freeze in time if it weren't for the pounding rain. Cars were no longer barrelling down the roads, any sounds were drowned out by the water hitting the ground, the crowds of people had disappeared and if anyone was still walking the streets, Alfred didn't notice them as he watched Arthur completely disregard the fact that he was nearly being drowned by the downpour in the time that he just stood there.

Did any of the other nations know about all the stuff Arthur had said? Arthur never mentioned anything about it or even showed that there was a problem, like he was ignoring what was happening to his country, to himself. Just like how he was standing in the rain and completely ignoring the mess he had turned into, looking about as broken as he said.

"Okay, I don't know how to help any of that but right now I can help by making you get your stupid ass out of the rain." Alfred said bluntly, floundering a little for something to do: he had the urge to help his old brother figure but he had no idea how to do it with issues like this. This seemed different from the usual hero stuff.

Arthur glared at Alfred with the classic 'you're an idiot' look, a welcome sign that the Brit hadn't fallen to deep into the depths of self-pity. "Fine," he surrendered and rolled his eyes as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his hoodie which didn't do a lot of good since he was already wet and freezing.

Alfred grinned at the easy victory, he had expected an argument or some resistance with the weird way Arthur was acting today. He quickly looked around again and dimly remembered which way he was meant to be going, "This way!" he announced loudly, pointing down the street the way he had come before, "I think," he added more quietly as he started doubting his sense of direction again but started off down the sidewalk anyway.

Time started again as the American moved and a few cars darted down the road, small clusters of people started moving between buildings again. The rain was still relentless though, beating down on Arthur as he trailed after Alfred and looked up at the grizzly sky, grey buildings that blended against the dark clouds and bare trees that hung over the park fence.

No one noticed Arthur mutter something under his breath, masked by the heavy rain, traffic and the fact that probably no-one would listen to him anyway. "And it seems like nothing now will ever change and it seems like we're on our own again."

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_Okay, first fanfic-y type thing I've ever written and I did it an age ago but never worked up the bottle to put it up. I upload it now because I'm procrastinating and my good chum Kingsly Grave (Or CitrusMarshmallow) said I should after she, so kindly, went through and gave me some tips on it. 'Cos she's the professional. (Read her stuff. Do it.)_

_Anyway, chances are this is a one-time thing, I'm not a writer and I don't think I'm very good at it. Well, if I feel like it I might write some historical stuff (Wouldn't that be a gas?) but don't quote me on that._

_Yes, this is referencing a song. Metaphorical cookies for who guesses it._


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